If He Never Left
by ifiknowyouatall
Summary: AU: What would change if Deeks didn't go undercover at the end of Fame? Part of the Densiprompts exchange on tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

Denisprompt: AU Deeks was still with the team when Dom died. Credit for the prompt: moresassythanclassy

_Changes from the show: Deeks didn't leave at the end of Fame, instead he remains with the team through the close of Season 1. I'm trying to stay as true to the original plot as possible while figuring out what kind of role Deeks would have played within the episodes, occasionally having him take over lines/roles from other characters. I plan on doing one chapter each for Found through G. Callen. The characters and the primary plot don't belong to me, they belong to the creators of NCIS: LA._

_*"The news that truly shocks is the empty empty page. While the final rattle rocks its empty empty cage. And I can't handle this." –Peter Gabriel*_

The phone call had interrupted her infomercial-infiltrated dreams. She hadn't remembered falling asleep on her couch, but clearly the reality show she had been watching earlier that evening had given way to loud men who were way too excited about cleaning for their own good. None of that matter now. It didn't matter that it was the third time this week she'd fallen asleep on the couch, which was on par with the previous week. Didn't matter that the habit came from a mixture of confusion over her immediate comfort with her new, temporary partner and a desperation to find Dom and get everything back to 'normal.' Rubbing the sleep away from her eyes, she reached for the phone again, dialing a number that was becoming too familiar for her liking.

A sleepy voice answered after the third ring. "Kensi, is that you? What the hell time is it? Is everything all right?" The words jumbled together in a mix of panic and exhaustion. Deeks was beginning to wonder just how many acronyms he could handle in his job on a day-to-day basis and remain sane.

"We have a lead on Dom." Was all she said before hanging up. He assumed this meant, 'get your ass to the mission, ASAP.' and began to get dressed, even though it was still several hours before dawn.

The level of panic he encountered up in Ops was unlike anything he'd experienced in his short time with the team. Callen, rattling off orders and instructions at an uncharacteristically rapid rate was almost as off-putting as seeing the agent he replaced on the video screen. God, he was just a kid.

Tagging along with Kensi to gather information on the terrorist organization in the video, as an LAPD cop, on the surface he was woefully unqualified for this mission. But he knew better, beyond gathering data or interviewing suspects, he could provide some levity and rationality to the situation. The whole team was too close to this case, being too emotional caused mistakes. Mistakes in this line of work caused deaths. If he could act as a voice of reason during this whole processes, maybe they stood a prayer of getting the kid back and all coming out of this in one piece.

As Sam and Callen went off to who-knows-where after chatting with Hetty, Kensi had taken to hovering over Eric's shoulder in ops. Being the voice of reason sure did make a cop feel useless, there was quite literally nothing for him to do at that point. He was just about to verbalize a suggestion that they start using some of the other multitude of computers in the room to make this a four-pronged approach rather than two when Callen and Sam walked in with a flash drive.

Nate filled him in on who Mo was after the contents of the flash drive were revealed as Kensi contacted Gitmo. Callen and Sam's argument traveled up to Ops and Deeks was able to call and have a black and white meet them at the youth center. Didn't change the outcome at all, his partner still ended up in a pool, diving for a computer that might have some information on her missing teammate.

"Thanks Ariel. Tell Sebastian I say hi." Deeks joked as he grabbed the soaked computer and helped Kensi out of the pool. He really wanted to make a joke about a wet T-shirt contest, but they weren't at that point in their relationship yet and despite some of his coworker's opinions, he did have some tact. He wanted to instill calm not behave like an inappropriate lecher, no matter how hot his partner was.

Nate was never going to be able to pull Sam off the suspect on his own was all Deeks could think Sam rushed into the interrogation area with Nate on his heels. Holding Sam's left arm back as Nate took his right the two smaller men were able to keep Sam far enough away from the witness while Callen talked him down. Deeks, however, could also feel the tension radiating off the senior agent's body. Given his reaction to someone merely sitting in Dom's desk and Nate's earlier explanation of Mo, Deeks figured Sam blamed himself for some, if not all, of the current situation. He also couldn't deny the man a little release. He purposefully loosened his grip on Sam's left arm, allowing him to slam his hand against the wall, right next to the Yari's ear, causing him to fall to the floor in fear.

"Whoops." Deeks looked at Nate, not at all sorry. "Grip must have slipped." Callen quickly ushered Sam out to the nearby beach to clear his head, nodding in Deeks' direction in silent appreciation.

The team started shouting at each other after the failed attempt to talk to Kaleel Abramson. Sam's refused to see the whole board, too wrapped up in self-blame and Hetty's talking to Callen and her voice is breaking. Not doing a very good job, Deeks tells himself. Team's still making decision with their hearts and not their heads. But there's nothing he can do or say at this point that's going to change that. Not that he would. God forbid he ever end up in Dom's position, he'd want this team and this level of commitment working to bring him back too. He just can't shake the sinking feeling that somehow this method of investigating is going to get a team member hurt.

Kensi gives the forty-minute count down and she's rubbing her own neck raw with panic. He takes the risk and places his own hand on top of hers, halting the movement and hoping to transfer some level of calm and assurance through the slightest of touches. It seems to work, at least a little, as he can hear her inhale slowly. The brief reprieve doesn't last long as Callen starts shouting about options and ideas.

And now they're talking about torture by proxy and Deeks is pretty sure he didn't sign up for that when he signed the liason position. Or maybe he did. Either way, this was his team now and he's in. He's pretty sure Nate's going to need a magician's assistant anyway.

His blood pressure was rising with everyone else's as they entered the theater. Clearing rooms with Kensi, they could hear the shots fired right before they stepped into the room that had been used to film Dom, just days before, and his stomach sank. Even before Kensi realized that he'd never left LA, Deeks knew he was in the building. More shots, more panic, more lapsed protocol.

He and Kensi made their way to the roof as fast as they possibly could, knowing that Sam was on the roof with with Dom. They had Kaleel cornered in the stairwell but the gunfight erupted on the roof. Emerging into the sunlight, they stood back to back as the cleared the roof from their heightened position. Because of coms they both knew that Dom was down, but Deeks caught Callen's head shake a second before Kensi did and was prepared to support her, lowering her slowly to the ground as she turned into his chest and sunk to her knees.

Having been woken up at the wee hours of the morning, he had been readying himself for bed at the relatively early hour of ten when he heard the knock at the door. Outside, she stood there with a six-pack of beer and a look on her face some impossible mix of hesitant, hopeful grieving. Letting her silently enter the apartment, he stayed quiet, sitting on the couch, opening two beers and handing her one.

"I didn't get to know Dom before it was too late." That was all she offered, taking a sip of her beer and staring ahead at the muted television. Not another word was uttered for the rest of the night between the two, the beginning of a permanent partnership forged by tragic circumstances.


	2. Chapter 2

**AU Series: Deeks is still around when Dom dies**

_They're not mine, they belong to CBS/creators of NCIS:LA, I'm just playing a little bit of what-could-have-been. :)_

**Chapter 2: "Hunted"**

_"Boys in the morning always stay too long…but you're the only one who leaves too soon. And I would fall for you." _–Emily West "Boys in the Morning"

Clasping a set of pearls behind her neck, Kensi smoothed the front of her simple, black A-Line dress and inhaled deeply, taking one last look in the mirror. Grabbing a small clutch that contained her cell phone and a smaller weapon, she made her way out of her apartment to her waiting ride.

She and Deeks drove in silence to the funeral. In the days since Dom's death, they'd become experts at being silent in each other's presence. That first night of total silence had been followed with three more. On the second night, he'd cracked a bit.

"You know, if the goal of these impromptu partner bonding sessions you keep instigating is to get to know each other better, we're going to actually have to talk." Turning her head slightly and catching his eye, she rolled hers, as if to say, "Yeah, I know that you idiot, I'll get to it eventually." But she didn't utter a word that night. On the night that followed, she only spoke to ask to share a ride to Dom's funeral - bringing them to their present silence.

The funeral was a simple affair. Kensi couldn't bring herself to look at Dom's parents in the front row and opted to stand in the back of the graveside service. Deeks' stood stoically at her side, in a dark suit she would have thought would have looked out of place on her shaggy new partner. But he would continue to surprise her and bore serious and somber with the same ease that he brought comedy and lightness. In was in silence that she hooked her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder as the eulogies began. Not knowing why or how in a matter of weeks this man had become her touchstone, but too weary with grief to care at this exact moment, Kensi let herself have this single moment of weakness.

The evening of the funeral was yet another repeat of the previous night, two beers, silence, TV on mute, couch. Taking the final swig of his bottle, Deeks took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"I'm from LA. Haven't ever really left. Only child, high school in Reseda, college UCLA, law school Pepperdine. I surf, but you knew that. I like fish tacos, really food carts in general, hate reality TV, love musicals. Your turn." He bravely laid his left hand over her right, not knowing if he was stepping over a line or not. Deeks wasn't a monk, and he'd be a hypocrite to say that because she was a work partner that meant she was off limits, but there was something special about Kensi Blye that made him just a little extra cautious.

"Military brat. Lived everywhere, also an only child. College Georgetown, went straight into NCIS after graduation. Love pasta, donuts, really anything in the starch and junk food groups. Love reality TV, hate musicals. You're a lawyer?" She threw right back at him.

"Yup. Thought cop might be a better way to save the world so I switched. Parents?" And that's when the silence came back. He'd stepped over a line without even knowing it. Although, given that he'd have probably had the same reaction to that question, he didn't hold it against her.

Work over the next couple of days was slow, each member of the team sticking to a silent, solitary routine. Deeks caught Kensi in the hall talking to Nate on their second day back after the funeral. From the look on her face, Nate was trying to get her to talk about Dom, something he innately knew she wasn't ready for. Quickly moving to her side, he slyly (or not so slyly) injected himself into the conversation. It wasn't long after that they'd gotten a lead and before Deeks can blink (will these NCIS LA cases ever be simple or slow?) he's in a garage with Kensi looking for any clue about the terrorist organization that had taken her former partner away from her. Given their history, he'd expected they'd be doing this in silence.

"They always find a way to leave you."

"Excuse me?" He couldn't hide his surprise at her seemingly out of the blue statement.

"Men. They always find a way to leave me." She sounded more resigned than sad, which surprised him a bit.

"We're talking about Dom?" He asked cautiously.

"Dom, my father, the man I was supposed to marry." Well, that was a whole lot more information then he'd gotten last night. Her reaction to bringing up her parents made more sense.

"You know Dom didn't want to leave."

"No, but they all find a way to leave me just the same. Makes it a little bit easier to understand me, girl who can't commit because everyone's just going to leave her anyway." There it was, that resignation again, like it was somehow her fault all these men were leaving her.

Ever the professional she continued her search of the garage as she, almost involuntarily, pours her heart out.

"I don't think its possible to boil you down to a single stereotype; I'm sure you're far more interesting than that. Or I would be sure, if we actually talked when we hung out." He paused, sensing somehow that deflecting the seriousness of the situation with humor would result in this being the last of this kind of conversation he had with her. Quietly, he placed a hand on her elbow to turn her to face him, his back to a wall of car pictures, making sure she was looking him the eye when he said his next sentence.

"Not all men leave, Kensalina."

Her eyes filled with just the slightest trace of moisture before her professional self took over and her eyes went to the picture above his right shoulder.

"That's a plane. That's wrong."

Turning to see what she was talking about, she pushed past him and the picture was off the wall in the blink of an eye.

"The whole wall was cars." It didn't take him long to catch up to her train of thought. "He's hiding something." As a team, they went through the evidence that moved them one step closer to avenging Dom, quickly relaying the information that Keshwar had lost his driver.

Deeks felt an unfamiliar feeling of uneasiness as Callen pulled Kensi into an impromptu cover as he and Sam provided back up. He'd hit a rhythm with each member of the team, but he innately felt more comfortable with Kensi as his primary partner, even after the short time together. That was why this felt unnatural, he told himself. He in no way felt an unprofessional possessiveness regarding Kensi.

Convincing drunks, Kensi and Callen gained access to the ship. Shots fired, Keshwar in custody and Medina dead, the OSP unit had returned the Mission. Like an unspoken agreement, Kensi and Deeks made their way back to his place to repeat their nightly ritual. Take-out, beers and silence.

He couldn't hide the surprise on his face when she started talking barely two sips into their first beer.

"What did you mean when you said not all men leave?" Sounding like a lost little girl, Kensi didn't know why she felt like the rest of her life depended on the answer to this question.

"Because some of us don't. Some of us stick around, as partners, as friends. Some of us, even if the choice gets taken away from us, fight like hell to stick around. Dom fought like hell. And I don't know anything about your dad, Kens, but I'm sure he fought too, because that's what good men do, we fight to stay, especially when the woman matters. And Kensi, you matter."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She never had made friends easily, not as a kid, not in college and certainly not as an adult. And yet this infuriating man had somehow gained enough knowledge about her, simply by sitting with her for a week, to know exactly what to say and as much as she loathed to admit it, to be her friend.

"My dad was killed when I was fifteen. They said it was a car crash, but I never believed them. I'm still trying to find out what happened to him." Her words rapid and monotone, as if she let herself think about it for too long, the words wouldn't come out.

"I shot my dad when I was eleven. He beat my mom, thought he was going to kill her that time. Became a lawyer to help women like her get restraining orders, divorces, whatever. Became a cop when I realized a piece of paper didn't matter."

They hadn't looked each other in the eye during either of their revelations, opting to stare ahead to the flashing lights on the television. Making eye contact would have made this moment far too heavy, just far too _much_ for a partnership that was barely a month old. Kensi smiled slightly, though, proud of herself in that moment. She _knew _this partner and for an evening she would believe him, that he wouldn't leave her.


	3. Chapter 3

_This is the third chapter of an AU story that I've been writing that looks at how things might change if Deeks doesn't leave at the end of Fame. Characters aneo episode plot don't belong to me._

Chapter 3: Burned

"We should go out sometime." He did his best to hide his surprise. He should expect his partner's seemingly out-of-the blue truth bombs, since that was the only way he learned any information about her. And yet, he could feel the burning in the back of his throat from the beer that he'd been trying to drink that then tried to travel up his nasal passage when his partner decided to throw her hand grenade. And as Kensi was a highly trained operative, she probably noticed. But, still, he tried to play it cool.

"Princess, if that's how you feel, I can think of much more entertaining activities then beer and bad Chinese food on a Friday night." With a wiggle of his eye brows he bravely touched the tip of her nose this the end of his chopsticks.

She hit him lightly on the arm, with less vigor then a typical scolding from her would have had. Word had come in earlier that week that her former mentor had been murdered and she was still trying to process the information. Deeks, somehow knowing, had upped their now weekly dinners back to nightly, like the had been immediatley following Dom's death. And now he was here on a Friday, a night she was still pretty sure he reserved for those petite, nameless blondes she loathed (justifiably of course), sitting with on her couch instead.

"That's not what I meant. We should get out, of here, go to a bar, maybe dance a little. Maybe Tim could get us in somewhere good?" She teased.

"As you wish." Purposefully quoting the movie they were watching, setting his beer down and pulling her up by her wrist from the couch.

"Get changed, I'll grab a shirt from my go-bag in the car and Tim and Fern are going clubbing!"

"Don't you dare call me Fern!" She shouted out the half open door towards the parking lot of her apartment complex.

* * *

She was settled down at the bar with a drink and Deeks had needed to step away to take a phone call from the LAPD when a guy sat down on the stool next to her.

"Interesting boots. Takes a special kind of girl to pull those off." Normally, she would have been attracted to his polished, dark looks, but she found herself scanning the bar, seeing if her partner was going to return any time soon.

"Excuse me?" There really was no response to that kind of opening line.

"Special kind of girl. Like you. Strong, independent. I like that. I like that so much I'm going to let you buy me a drink." Where the hell was Deeks? What could possibly be taking so long. She finally saw him, making his way back over to her through the crowd, head tilted suspiciously at her new companion.

"You're going to let me buy you a drink? Score one for feminism there." She said in an overly cheery and slightly seductive tone. The one she used on marks. The one Deeks could tell, as he rapidly approached the situation, was going to be followed by a swift knee to the groin. Guy wouldn't know what hit him. But it was probably for the best that she didn't actually hit him.

"Babe, sorry I'm so late." Kissing her chastely on the cheek and approaching Kensi from the side opposite her new friend. He didn't want to catch a poorly-aimed knee. He could feel her tense, hopefully the tool next to her didn't notice.

She recovered quickly though, "No worries, Tim." Pausing for a second she turned back to dark and moderately attractive. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Doug."

"Doug here was just about to let me buy him a drink."

"Oh, that's nice of you. Whatcha drinking Doug?"

"Never mind." The man bumbled, "I can get my own. Nice meeting you..." Trailing off and backing away so quickly he ran into the adjacent stool, Kensi chuckled as she turned back towards Deeks.

"That was unnecessary, I had that covered."

"The proper response is thank you. But I'll let this one slide, since you were totally falling for that guy's game."

"What, no, I wasn't." Except that she would have...had Deeks not been there, had Deeks not been around for the last two months, changing her imperceptibly bit by bit, she would have. In fact, she probably would have gone home with the guy and she's not sure she wants to think about that.

"Let's dance, Tim." Grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the floor, she was bound and determined to enjoy the rest of her night, leaving heavy thoughts about a mentor lost and an all too confusing relationship with her new partner for another day.

* * *

He walked in Monday morning and could hear his partner complaining to Sam about her weekend. Well, the fifteen minutes there were to complain about. He thought they'd had a pretty good time. Macy's death was still hitting her harder then she let on, but he'd let her play tough on this one. He was just going to have to use the slow play, quickly learning that Kensi Marie Blye opened up on her terms alone. Getting to know her was one delicate game of red light, green light. Push your luck too far and she'd turn around when he was still moving and send him all the way back to the starting line. He'd pushed his luck at the bar this weekend and he knew better then to unfreeze when she was glaring right at him. But that didn't mean he couldn't push just a little and he was in a good mood this morning. Good surf and if Kensi was bugging Sam, at least he'd beat Callen in. So on their way up to ops, he couldn't help but needle Kensi just a litte.

"I see you have selective memory when it comes to this weekend. A bit of revisionist history, leaving out your knight in shining armor." He whispered playfully in her ear as they headed up to Ops.

"You'll be shining something, that's for sure." She shot back as her only retort.

"What does that even mean?" But he wouldn't find out, because Callen was made and Callen was on his own and he left to make a phone call to Bates to make sure LAPD kept their distance. When he got back, Eric was panicking. Eric never panicked. And then NCIS went dark. Or, dark in NCIS super-spy terms. The make-shift set up was still better than most of the operations he'd been a part of in his time on the police force.

Being on his own was something Deeks could related to. Happened most of the time when he went under for LAPD and it will probably happen again before all was said and done. But after just two months with the NCIS team, with Kensi at his back, it was getting harder and harder to be ok with being out there alone.

* * *

In the end, the team saved the day. Again. But the weight their team leader was trying to bear alone threatened to crush them all. The newest member understood more about Callen than he cared to admit. He knew what it meant to go through life using a different name because what you were born with, what you were born into, was too painful. But at least he knew him name and at least he'd been given the choice. And he was in no position to initiate a bonding session with Callen. However, bidding Renko a rousing farewell at a bar down the street from his place, that Deeks could handle. Once the team closed down the bar, Kensi decided she'd pick up her car in the morning and crash on his couch tonight instead.

She was pretty sure she heard barking when his key turned in the lock, but maybe she'd had one too many jack and cokes. Nope, her hand was definitely getting licked and while she'd had a dream or two about her partners tongue (something she wouldn't even admit sober to herself yet) since he was talking to her, she was pretty sure it was a canine doing the licking.

"Kensi, Monty. Monty, this is Kensi. You're going to have to share the couch with her tonight."

Deeks went to pull bedding from the closet and Kensi slowly followed him and somehow ended up sitting at the foot of his neatly made bed. She was tipsy enough to be honest, but not drunk enough that she wasnt positive she wouldnt regret this conversation in the morning.

Leaning back onto the bed she stared at the ceiling and began talking.

"Macy was the big sister I never had. She introduced me to the bar we went to on Friday. She taught me how to be a woman in a man's game, how to kick ass in heels."

"And look damn good doing it." Deeks threw out there while pulling a spare pillow off the top shelf of the closet.

"So first Dom, now Macy and I feel like Callen's next. He may not die, although he almost did about a year ago, but his past. He's going to leave me, leave the team to go and find it."

Deeks sat down gingerly on the bed next to her and tentatively pushed her hair out of her face so he could look her in the eye. He was sober enough that he could have driven her home from the bar, but it was much more tempting to allow himself the fantasy of spending the night with her, so he'd played along that neither was in a state to drive. But now, now Kensi needed serious.

"I'm not going to lie to you Kens, I think you're right. I think Callen's past is catching up with him and there are answers he wants and needs to find. And the team can either help him or get out of his way. I figure we'll probably help him as much as he'll let us and he'll probably leave for a while. But I'd also put money on him coming back. Whether he admits it or not, he's attached to the team. You have to stop thinking people are only going to leave you, Kens. There's only so many times I can tell you they won't."

"Then don't leave." She started to inch up towards the head of the bed, appearing to be easing into the pleasant, sleepy stage of her inebriation.

"Can't promise I'll be here every day, LAPD can still recall me, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving you. You've been my partner for two months. No one else has wanted to keep me around that long, you think I'd give that up"

"Didnt want to, Hetty made me."

"Ah, the real truth comes out." He grabbed the sheets and pillow and started to make his way towards the door. "I'll take the couch, seeing as you've already started to make your nest for the evening."

"Stay." She didn't open her eyes, but patted the empty side of the bed behind her back. The request had a sobering effect on both of them. He paused, before cautiously sitting back down on his own bed.

"You sure?" Baby steps, he reminded himself.

"Mm-hmm." She flipped over to face him, eyes definitely open now. "I haven't shared a bed with someone I planned on sharing breakfast with since Jack." The true magnitude of her request now hitting him. It had become their somewhat convoluted habit since the week of Dom's funeral, an unspoken rule was that a big personal reveal deserved reciprocation.

"Deeks was my mother's maiden name. I was born Martin Andrew Brandel." She looked at him with a bit of saddness in her eyes that he mistook for pity and tried to cover his disappointment with a joke. "And I'm a cuddler, just to warn you, before you make your final sleeping arrangement decision."

"Keep your hand between hipbone and rib and you might not lose one." She flipped back over. "Goodnight, Deeks." He'd never liked the sound of his name more than in that moment.

It was probably a good thing he woke up first to the ringing of his cell phone the next morning. While there was still space between their two fully clothed bodies, his hand had started to drift dangerously high across her stomach. Looking at the caller ID, he saw Bates' number. Whatever it was, at this hour, it couldn't be good.


	4. Callen, G

_It's_ _the season 1 finale! Haven't decided if I'm going to continue it beyond this, I might try and look at the real important episodes and how they would be different in this AU, but still trying to decide. Characters still aren't mine._

* * *

He managed to slip out of the room without waking her. She'd stirred when he'd gotten out of bed, but had ultimately turned on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow, limbs splaying out onto the spot where he had just been.

"Deeks." He spoke into the phone in little more than a whisper as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

"Got a girl over, Detective? I can barely hear you." Bates chuckled on the other end of the line.

"Something like that. What do you need at this ungodly hour of the morning?"

"We've got the Lazik operation all set up. Scarli wants you to make first contact tonight."

He'd had a sneaking suspicion this was coming, especially after a less-than-casual call from Traynor the other night when he'd been at the club with Kensi.

"I'm in the middle of something with NCIS, does it have to be now? Does it even have to be me?" Deeks, never one to shy away from a job, nevertheless felt a loyalty to his new team.

"Not like you to back out, Deeks. Three months ago, you would have leapt at the chance to jump back in, especially with this case. You've put in the leg work, you're the one to see it through to the end."

"I wasn't the NCIS liaison three months ago. I have other responsibilities now, other commitments. I'm not saying no, I'm just asking for you to give me 48 more hours to wrap things up here."

"Good thing I'm not asking. You've got sixteen, and that's an order. You meet the CI at the warehouse at 22:00. Wrap up what you need to before then." The line went dead and it was all Deeks could do not to slam the phone onto the kitchen counter.

To keep his hands busy while he thought out how he was going to approach this, how he was going to approach her, and the responsibility he felt to this team, he started preparing a pot of coffee. He popped a couple pieces of bread into the toaster and started cracking eggs into a bowl when he heard the fainting ringing of her cellphone from behind the bedroom door. Monty started to whine at the closed door as he heard movement behind it. He poured two mugs of coffee as he waited the update from his partner on the situation at NCIS.

She patted Monty's head as she shuffled into the kitchen in a LAPD gym shirt and sweats rolled up a couple of times at the waist. She'd stolen them last night after she realized that sleeping in her jeans wasn't going to be practical. Hair askew and no makeup, she looked far younger than her 27 years.

"Morning, sunshine." He grinned handing her a couple of coffee. She didn't speak until the cup was almost half gone. Partner's not a morning person, check.

"That was Eric. We got a lead on Keelson's warehouse. We breach in an hour. Do I smell toast? Did you make breakfast?" Her tone lifting at the possibility of food.

"That toast is probably cold by now, but yeah, I was going to make eggs. If you want to hop in the shower, I'll whip something up quick. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, can't go without if we're going to be infiltrating the villian's secret lair."

* * *

What the hell was going on? That question kept running his mind over and over again. There were files with people's names in locked cabinets that were set to _explode_ if someone broke in. What did you have to do? Who did you have to be to have a folder there?

He was talking to one of the first responders when he heard Callen's voice raise behind him, directing accusations at Kensi.

"Hey, ease up, man. We were all in there. She didn't do anything wrong."

"Back off, Deeks!" Callen moved towards Deeks and Sam and Kensi stood straighter, thinking they were going to have to break up a fight. But he hit the hood of a police cruiser instead before storming off, Sam close behind.

"I could have handled that." Her chin sticking out defiantly as she stood a little straighter.

"I know. But you didn't have to, this time." His voiced softened as he trailed off. Before she could call him on his odd wording, he was walking back to the SUV.

* * *

This just day keeps getting stranger. Keelson had a complete list of Callen's foster homes and their only lead had his last name...his only name. Deeks would take a punch right now, if it would take some of the weight off the team leader.

"I thought my 10 was bad..." He'd mumbled under his breath while moving into a quiet corner of the mission to a make some phone calls and actually liaise for once, see what LAPD could do, if anything, and while he was at it, solidfy some details about tonight with Traynor. When he was done Sam and Kensi had been sent to follow a lead and Hetty was talking to Callen. Judging by Callen's body language, Hetty was taking him off the case, or at very least, minimizing his involvement. When Callen stormed off, Deeks cautiously made his way towards the still surprisingly intimidating diminutive woman.

"Hetty, I know this couldn't possibly come at a worse time, but..."

"LAPD has recalled you. When do we lose your services, Mr. Deeks?"

"Tonight, I just got the call this morning."

"Understood, do what you can before then. Make sure to tie up all lose ends," her head tilting towards Kensi's empty desk, "before you leave."

* * *

The CIA had agreed to turn over the case. Deeks was pretty sure judging by the look on Kensi's face that he wasn't missing out by not meeting Kort. Hetty had given Kensi and Sam thirty minutes to get to the boathouse, a puzzled look on Kensi's face. It was now or never, Deeks realized. He'd have to be prepping for his role as a dirty real estate lawyer by the time she got back.

Pulling her aside before she exited the building, motioning for Sam to go ahead with the tilt of his head.

"You good Deeks? Is there a reason you're not joining us?"

"Beyond the fact that its above my clearance level?"

"Hetty can fix that."

"I know, but that's not the reason. I have to go back to LAPD for a little while."

"Oh, ok, well I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'm going back under Kens, I won't be back tomorrow." He tried to keep eye contact with her, but she dropped her head, hair falling in front of her face.

"You're leaving." The 'me' was implied.

Tilting her chin up with two fingers so she was forced to look at him before she had a chance to build those walls back up.

"No. I'm doing my job, Kens, a job we're both familiar with. Yes, its dangerous. You know that. I know that. But this is not me leaving forever. This is just a temporary absence and I will fight like hell to end it as soon as possible. Got it?"

She nodded slightly, eyes wide, never breaking contact. She felt his lips brush hers, faintly, gently. Taking a step back, he pushes the door open for her so she could join a waiting Sam in the parking lot. She regained the use of her feet, but not her voice. Ducking under his arm, she jogged towards the Challenger. Turning around one last time before getting into the car she waved at him where he was casually leaning against the door frame

"Don't worry Fern; I'll be back." He shouted jovially after her. It was the last thing she heard before she shut the passenger side door, surprising herself when her reflection smiled back at her.


	5. Human Traffic

_The characters and the general plot aren't mine. Just borrowing for a 'butterfly effect' AU about what would have changed if Deeks had hung around a little longer. Enjoy!_

* * *

_"It's hard to move on. Yet, I'm better near to you." A Fine Frenzy_

* * *

The early morning light peaked through the curtains of her bedroom, causing the sleeping brunette to flip over and bury her face deeper in her pillow. The shrill beeping of her alarm clock silenced with a violent swat, still did its job and she reluctantly got out bed, shuffling into the kitchen. Gulping down a half a mug of coffee, she started to feel remotely human. Snagging a Pop-Tart from the kitchen counter, she stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. Looking out in the direction of the ocean, not that she could see it from her place, she wondered what he was up to, if he was ok, and when he was coming back to her. Finishing up the rest of her coffee and eating her 'pastry' cold, she got ready to face the day. Coffee mug left haphazardly on her night stand, beside two others just like it, she pulled the LAPD T-shirt over her head and started the shower, trying not to think about how sharing one breakfast with someone, someone she hadn't seen in two months, could make waking up in an empty apartment feel so lonely. Maybe she'd offer her spare room to Callen, at least then she'd have someone to distract her.

* * *

She couldn't harden her facial features, couldn't erect the necessary walls fast enough to hide her reaction when Hetty said that LAPD had lost contact with Deeks. It was all she could to keep standing upright.

"Get it together, Blye." She whispered to herself as she gripped the table in front of her until her knuckles turned white. Callen and Sam would know something was up in a couple more seconds. It was already too late to fool Hetty. He said he wouldn't leave; that he would fight like hell to get back. Get back to her. That was his promise. Then why did this feel so much like he dad, like Jack? She'd let down her walls with Deeks, slowly at first; she hadn't realized until he brushed his lips to hers that they'd crumbled completely. He'd dismantled them in a matter of months. And look where that got her, alone, again, the world collapsing around her.

Somehow amidst the destruction she retained information about the case. Emilio Ortega had been killed in an explosion. No word from Deeks since, meeting the case officer in the boat house. If she concentrated hard enough, she could make her feet move and follow Sam and Callen.

* * *

Desperately trying to remain professional, she kept her eyes focused straight ahead as Traynor ran through the pertinent details of the case.

"Emilio needed a real estate lawyer, easy for Marty...easy for Deeks, to spin..."

"He's a lawyer. We know." She practically spat at the other woman in the room. Her jealousy was thinly veiled, but her possessiveness for the man she considered her partner worn completely on her sleeve for the whole room to see. Callen eyed her, silently urging her to back off and Sam's hand on her shoulder conveyed a silent compassion she didn't quite comprehend. But it was enough and Jess took it in stride. And then she was gone.

The car explosion took everyone by surprise, but it also shocked her into 'Bad-Ass Blye' mode. Forsensics were her thing, she could focus on that, realize the similarities between the two explosions. But then LAPD started to tie up loose ends and tie their hands.

* * *

As he waited in the bar for Hetty's arrival, he couldn't help but think that this must be what fighting like hell feels like. The last couple of days had been a haze of adrenaline and tranquilizers and he was pretty sure he'd just hit the ground, or maybe bounced a few times. He'd called NCIS instead of LAPD because he'd felt more like a part of a team, more like he belonged in his short time at the mission then he ever did at the precinct. And he had promises to keep, to himself, to finish this case. And another, to her. What she didn't realize, what he'd only just fully admitted to himself in the loneliness of this cover, was the hold she had on him. And he knew, the best way to get back to where he promised was to have her, have his new team, help. He just hoped her walls hadn't gotten too high over the past couple months.

* * *

When Lazik called him Detective Deeks, he figured that was it. He'd go down fighting, but he didn't stand much of a chance. But when Lazik showed him the picture, of him leaving Jess' house, he knew it was his fault, gotten sloppy, a moment of weakness to comfort a friend, and he had no one to blame but himself. And then he heard Callen and a "That's my girl" escaped his lips when the red laser appeared, before all hell broke loose.

She was all business when she appeared in the basement, so he played it cool.

"Told you I'd be back." He smiled at her, letting her taking the lead.

"Oh shut up." She said as she rolled her eyes and fought back the urge to punch him in the shoulder for his cavalier attitude.

* * *

Watching his face as they planned to trap Scarli, she knew it would be hard on him, she just couldn't guess how hard. When Scarli accused him of sleeping with Traynor, she saw a side of the man she'd never fathomed. He'd been everything to her for a couple months, her silent companion, her comic relief, her dance partner, her levity. She'd seen humor and she'd seen compassion, but not this rage, a rage that seemed eerily natural, something he must have worked to keep buried, and it scared her just a little. Calling out his name, first loudly and then almost as a whisper, she tried to reach the man she remembered.

And then he walked away: walked away from Scarli, walked away from the scene, walked away from her. As a single tear escaped, she didn't move, didn't run after him. Instead, she began building up her invisible defenses, resolved to keep everyone at arm's length.

* * *

Later that evening, her resolve faltered at the first sight of him, standing sheepishly at her front door, silently raising a six pack of beer. They sat in silence, much as they had the first night, and he knew they'd lost ground, that he didn't come back to the same woman he left. Unfiltered honesty had been their foundation before and if they were going to be good moving forward, they needed to go back to that place. He took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I didn't sleep with her." That at least made her look away from the TV. "The picture Lazik had, that was from the night she told me about her cousin, and why she was so passionate about the case. It was the night when I told her why the case hit home for me. And you deserve to know that too. When I was in foster care, after my dad, there was this girl that lived at the same house, a couple years older than me..." And she squeezed his hand as he recounted a childhood lost, and while they weren't all the way back, they were on their way.


End file.
